Angels
by Moonfiregoldeyes
Summary: Sequel to Demons. Mildish Yaoi Sorry Jelly! The fate of our two heroes rest upon the other as they rush towards an end no one could see coming. Pairings will be Roy/Ed in later chapters. Chapter 11 now up, and then hiatus!
1. Chapter 1

**ANGELS**

**ROY**

The death toll had been staggering. Of the wounded, the toll had been even more.

Ninety-seven dead, over two-hundred-fifty wounded. And that was just the initial count. Another fifty were dead by the next day.

Roy Mustang was not among them. Riza Hawkeye, Jean Havoc, and Hayes Breda resided on neither list. Cain Fuery shared a room with Vito Falman in the infirmary, both suffering from a series of nasty wounds. None of them had been shot or as seriously injured as the alchemist pair.

Roy had awoken two days later in a hospital bed. He had been told that the severity of his unconsciousness had been brought on by the amount of blood loss and trauma and wasn't uncommon.

He hadn't really cared. All he wanted to know was: where was Ed?

The doctors refused to tell him. They didn't want to add to his stress.

He had to be doped after that.

His staff, a faithful blonde watch pair, also refused to tell him.

By the third day, he assumed the worst. His mind provided the pictures; he filled in the screams and death throes. What fate had befallen the man? Had he gone the way of Hughes? Had he died in his stead?

Why? When he had passed out, the blonde wasn't injured. Why then had he…had he…?

Why wasn't he here? Why wasn't he insulting him? That's all Roy wanted to know, really.

But no one would tell him. Not a soul.

Why wouldn't anyone just get it over with? Deliver that final blow?

Tell him! Call him the failure, the child killer he was. If he hadn't insisted that Fullmetal…that _Edward_ had came with him, then he would still be here.

It was Fuery who had finally broken down to tell him. After a bough of numerous threats, countering the ones from his First Lt, he had found out Edward's fate.

MIA. Missing in Action.

Three days, and they were still pulling bodies, either dead or alive, out of the rubble of Eastern Command. _Three blasted days!_ Alphonse was beside himself, but was allowed to help with the search. While Roy was confined to the bed, Edward's little brother searched for the final piece of the grisly puzzle.

"Colonel?" Lt. Havoc poked his head into the door, keeping the door closed to keep anything from being seen in or out. "General Haruko is here sir; he'd like to speak with you."

Roy gave a sigh. He had no excuse to make the man leave, as he had been ordering Hawkeye to supply him with reports of Eastern Command as soon as the doctors had stopped drugging him. It was all he could do from his bed, as he was still too shaky to stand for long periods of time.

"Let him in Lieutenant." He said, closing the folder he was working on. Using the remote attached to his bed, he adjusted himself to at least look in control.

A stamping of feet and a parade of blue filed in. Roy ground his teeth together at the numerous guards that were wasted on this man, people who should be out working the rubble. Looking for his lost alchemist.

"Ah, Colonel Mustang, hard at work even on your hospital bed." Haruko purred, sounding as slimy as every other forsaken day Roy had to deal with him. "From the rumors around Central, one would think that you would use this as an excuse to shrek your duties."

The insult and barely veiled threat made Roy grow cold. Would this be the time where his competition took him apart and sent him back down the ranks? A discharge?

"General, one of my subordinates is still missing. Until I have solid proof or a body to tell his story, I will not just sit here and let leads grow cold. Sir." He spat the last out as an afterthought.

Haruko bristled, but contained himself. "The Fuehrer sent me himself, to give you your promotion." He turned to one of the Majors at his back to take a small black box. "You'll have to forgive the lack of ceremony, but with the recent attack we find ourselves a little pressed for personal."

The black box was passed into his hands, a sharp round of salutes from the gathered officers, and then they marched out. Not another word was spoken. Havoc and Hawkeye waited until Roy dismissed them with a flick of his wrist, still holding the box with his right hand.

Black eyes studied the small thing, contemplating on the possibilities. Did he even want to open it? Did he want the promotion? At the cost of another friend?

Or would he use it?


	2. Resurrection

**EDWARD**

How the bastard contended with the heat of a round of fire transmutations Edward couldn't figure out. His metal arm and leg seared his flesh, cooking the surrounding muscle after he gave snap after snap.

The first few were hard to control, both because of the unfamiliarity of the alchemy and the gloves themselves. Mustang's fingers were…freakishly long! It took a bit of maneuvering to get the damned things to spark for him. After a period of adjustment, he found that he couldn't stop.

The snaps brought on a whole new series of complications. And were giving birth to a litter of new nightmares. The explosions of compressed air and fire made the building light up, casting shadows on his fallen superior. And like Mustang had tried to drill into his head months ago, it was reminiscent of his automail. It was like feeling, but not. He could sense the movement of air, the burn of fire. It was like…remembering how something felt. The texture, the firmness, the color. Everything played into the grand design.

Including the death.

Once, he had ventured into the forbidden topic of Ishval with Mustang. It had started from some obscure argument and had ended in Edward fleeing the office as the man had darkened in on himself, refusing to even look at the blonde as he let loose a string of Xingjian. Edward was only able to understand a chosen few words and they had scared him deeply. He knew a few of the war stories Mustang had gone through to 'earn' the name 'The Hero of Ishval'.

And Edward finally realized just why Mustang clung to his dreams of Fuehrer so. The senseless death that happened with every touch of his fingertips shouldn't be happening.

The final snap, a gesture borne of pain as he had been jarred heavily as another shell had exploded to the south and had thrown his flesh shoulder out of socket, had ended the battle. Instead of smoking the outer metal hull of one of the armored tanks like he had aimed to do, Edward had miscalculated in his formula and blown up the tank and the two on either side of it. The results of which had sent the building, already crumbling, into an inward fall and left him buried in one of the lower rooms.

His metal arm lay crushed beneath stone and with his other arm still torn asunder he couldn't release the clasp or draw an array. The pain from the crushed nerve endings in his automail port spotted his mind, making him see little black dots.

"I wonder how the bastard faired…is he even looking for me? Or have I been listed as dead?" His lips made the words, but his throat did not produce the requested noise. He had spent his voice trying to scream and call attention to himself, but with the amount of dust he should have kept his mouth shut. "Hope Al's ok…"

Resting his head against the wall behind him, he tried not to move his body too much else he jarred one of his arms. Even as he relaxed, he couldn't get truly comfortable as his body refused to stop twinging even as he closed his eyes.

The smell of gun smoke and rotting flesh did not fade with the dust, and as the air became thin as the particles rested against the surface of stone and flesh, the smell became more and more prominent. The iron twang of blood and shattered automail added a metallic undertone to the scent of death. Morbidly, Edward wondered if Winry would smack him or not if he turned up dead with shattered automail. His legs had faired better then his upper extremities, but were useless to him as he couldn't walk or draw an array with them in his current position.

Stupid, the whole thing had been a stupid mistake. He should have stayed in Central and read his books. But the enticement of a new lead, no matter how absurd the rumor, and a new supply of books in East Library, had coxed him from his hole. And as Mustang had asked it of him as a personal favor, he really couldn't refuse. And if he hadn't been there more people would have died. But he still couldn't get the notion out of his head that it was _his _fault. _His_ fault that bad luck and misfortune followed him around like a thrice cursed puppy begging for the scrapes of whatever happiness he managed to find. _His_ fault that he couldn't protect those he called friends, even if they were all a bunch of hard-nosed bastards that needed to get their ego's checked.

A shift in the rocks that were cramped up against him made his nerve endings scream for mercy or an untimely death. His throat worked and his chest convulsed with the effort of voicing his anguish but all that was born of his broken body was a small squeak before he slumped back in udder exhaustion. Again the rock moved, and his body convulsed as random muscles jerked in instinct. His sharp mind became clouded as more and more pain hammered at his consciousness. Air and shifting gravel grated on his ears, blotting out the human voices that talked not thirty feet from him. Eyes screwed up, abrading the dirt and dryness of his orbs as he tried to block out reality.

_Fuck, why can't I just die and get the damned thing over with? Is Fate just having another go at me? This the Gate's screwed up since of humor? _Edward gritted his teeth, grinding bits of rock between molars as he fought to breathe. It would do no good to have a pain induced panic attack down in the rock assed hell he'd been placed under. Shock hadn't set in yet, though he'd had however long to set and stew in his predicament.

"Focus!" He mouthed, trying to spit the word. _Mind games, try a mind game to keep your brain functioning. I can't pass out again, I might not wake up. _

"Hydrogen, 1.00794 grams per mole. Helium, 4.002602. Lithium, 6.941…" Starting at the top, Edward made his mind dredge up the elemental table, adding on the atomic weight as he tried to keep himself awake. He had never really needed to use these before, but Havoc had impressed on him the need to keep the mind going even if the body ever stopped itself up. Pain or exhaustion, stay awake until back up came. Never be caught unaware.

He had just reached gold when he started to hear the voices, no longer sound waves moving through layers of rock. Stopping, he could barely force himself to close his mouth and swallow. _Is it help or the enemy? Do I care? _Even if he wanted to, if he knew for certain what fate he would call upon himself if he summoned the men to him, his voice was gone. The meager amount of strength he had been holding onto for the past two hours was fading.

"Juko!"

"Keep your voice down idiot! Do you want the military to hear us?" The second voice was quieter, colder and more authoritative.

"Sorry boss, but we need to get moving. If we keep Price waiting, she'll have our heads and use us in the experiment instead."

"No names! Are you a complete moron? What if someone hears you!"

"Who? Anyone down here is either dead or working towards it." The first voice was boyish, no that wasn't right. It was a feminine male, but the voice was defiantly a mature adult.

"Shut up! Did you find the files Smith?" The second voice asked.

Edward held on to the voices, filing away every note that he could. This wasn't help. This must be a group of attackers.

"Yeah Juko, I got 'em. But what the hell does the witch want with old lab documents?" A third voice, a deep baritone that reverberated through the stone.

"It isn't our place to ask questions. We follow orders or we get placed in that weird assed array! Do you want to be twisted into a blob of flesh?"

Scuffles of feet started towards him, and Edward debated the need to either play dead or stay awake and collect more information. But as his body yanked him towards the cliff of sleep, he had to release the breath he had been holding as he shoved himself over. He would be of no help dead, but as he slipped off, he questioned on the fact if he would even wake up to pass the fact that the attack hadn't just been rebels.

_Oh, well. Mustang 'ell just have to find someone else to pester. I'm bushed. _


	3. Chatter

**ROY**

"Hawkeye! If you don't let me out of this bed I will have you court marshaled! That is a promise!" The newly made Lt. General, as he had skipped Brigadier and went straight on, screamed from his hospital bed.

"I know sir, you've said that for the last hour." Hawkeye replied, turning the page in her book. "Be a bit more imaginative in your threats."

"Damn it Riza!" Roy, finally reached the end of his patience, threw a pillow at the newly made Major. "I just want to help find him!"

Unruffled by the childish tantrum, Hawkeye turned the page again to continue reading as the pillow slumped to the wall behind her. "And by staying in bed you are helping Roy. Already you've done more to help then the other active Colonels and Brigadier Generals that were assigned to clean up. You are doing the best you can by staying right there."

Knowing that his Major was correct did not dampen his bad mood. If anything it inflamed it. "I know that! But I still feel useless just laying here signing papers as Edward lies dying somewhere! If not dead."

Before Riza could form an answer, a panicked knock alerted the pair to the arrival of the new First Lt. Havoc. "Hawkeye! General! We found him!"

No one needed to ask which male had been found. Instead, Hawkeye was three steps down the hall before she whirled back and grabbed a wheelchair from a passing nurse. Pushing it back to the room, she thrust Mustang down into it as he finished ripping needles from his hand. Spinning back to the hall, she followed Havoc down the hall towards the OR.

Barking orders from his wheelchair, Mustang had one hand gripping his wounded shoulder as he tried to get his thoughts and emotions under control. "Lt! What is his condition?" Noticing that they were moving toward the OR, on towards the intensive care unit, he forgo the thought of a dead alchemist.

"I'm not sure chief. Falman called me and told me they pulled him out of the lower rubble not an hour ago. And since he's been under for five days whatever happened to him is worsened by the dehydration and malnutrition." He grabbed Riza by the arm and dragged them around a corner down to a small waiting room. A set of double doors, steel with a small window in each near the top middle, stood to the left of a row of chairs against the far wall. "But what I know is that his right arm had to be detached to get him out and that one of his legs was broken. I don't know if it was the automail or flesh one though."

A doctor, dressed in all white, came from the double doors a few minutes later. Giving his subordinate a reprieve, Mustang turned to the doctor. "Well?" He snapped after waiting for all of three seconds while the doctor read over his little clipboard.

"Are you Mr. Elric's commanding officer?" The doctor looked to the blonde woman at Mustang's shoulder. "A general Mustang?"

If the moment hadn't been so serious Havoc might have laughed at the look of outrage on the real Mustang's face and the look of disgusted shock on Hawkeye's. "Do I look like a male doctor?"

Startled, the doctor rechecked his chart before looking at the Lt. who vigorously shook his head before making a jabbing motion with one finger toward the angered male. "Oh, I wasn't expecting his superior to be…indisposed." The look of speculation on the doctor's face did nothing to sooth the fire alchemist's temper.

"If you want to keep your job and _if_ you want to remain a living breathing human, I would get to the point _doctor_ or I will find someone to replace you." Roy hissed, wishing that he had at least one glove to scare the good doctor into next week. But as Edward had taken his first pair and Hawkeye hadn't been out of the hospital since he had been admitted he had not had a chance to gain another pair.

Startled, the doctor returned to looking at his clipboard, nearly hiding behind it as Roy glared up at him. "Hmm…yes, Mr. Elric is in serious condition. His left arm was dislocated at the shoulder, and has been for at least the last four days. The severity of the damage made it hard for us to place it back, and he will have difficulty with movement for at least two more weeks. His right shoulder port was brutally torn apart when stone fell onto him. I'm calling in a specialist to come and look at him and he will help me rebuild the port along with the one in his leg."

Holding up his hand, Roy stopped him. "Is it imperative that Fullmetal has to the ports fixed immediately?"

Frowning, the doctor shook his head. "No, it could wait a few days until he is stronger, but I would like to do it now while I have him under the knife. Less trauma you see."

"The only trauma Fullmetal will suffer is at the hands of his mechanic if someone else even thinks about messing with his automail. As she is already in route with her grandmother, you can put off the reconstruction surgery until tomorrow. Continue."

Miffed that this military dog was bossing him around, the man growled back. "I will do whatever I think right by my patient. I will not be ordered around by a pompous jackass that thinks he knows what he's talking about. Why don't you keep to the killing and I'll keep to—"

The arrogant doctor, who had never given his name and wouldn't be around long enough for any of the three officers to care enough to gain one, went down after a strong left hook to his face from one blonde. Breathing heavily, Havoc straightened his collar and stalked down the hall to flag a nurse or doctor that could take over.

Hawkeye merely raised one thin eyebrow as she watched the Lt. walk away. "I think he's been around us too long sir."

Chuckling even though he was still mad and stressed lifted Roy's spirits a tad. "Perhaps." Motioning for the Major to pick up the fallen clipboard, he scanned it quickly for the important parts. "Broken automail, three fractured ribs, internal bruising, one dislocated shoulder, one fractured hip, the left leg is shattered in three different places, thumb, and two fingers of his left hand broken, and a mild concussion. How the fuck did he survive?" A multitude of words and conditions followed after that amounted to blood loss, starvation, and dehydration made it apparent that whatever hell Edward had endured he could no longer be classified as a 'non-combat' alchemist. "When are the Rockbells to arrive?"

"Tonight at 7 o'clock." Riza was horrified as well. The seventeen year old had been brutalized beyond some of the veterans from Ishval. "Do you think that Edward will need another automail limb…"

Sighing, Roy directed Hawkeye to roll him over to the wall. "I don't know. But I will be damned if I let that _fool_ near one of my men again." He glared at the offensive sack of flesh lying on the floor. Tapping a finger to his leg, he tried to keep his icy mask up as the throbbing in both his shoulder and head grew.

_I wish you were here Maes, I need your advice. _


	4. Wake up!

EDWARD

_"…another three units of A negative…"_

Where was he?

_"Keep the gauze…"_

Alive, he had to be alive. The pain made sure he was alive, but it was nothing compared to the Gate.

_"Move out of the way…"_

But where was he now?

_"…Edward? Can you…"_

He couldn't answer the call of his name.

_"Cut that off…"_

His heart beat sounded so loud.

_"…scalpel…"_

When did his lungs move to his ears?

_"…increase the IV drip…"_

Maybe it would be best if he just rested for awhile.

…

_"Can he hear us?"_ A voice, so far off, crinkled in the distance. Ed would have frowned if the muscles in his face were in working order. Why were they talking over a radio?

_"Perhaps, he should be waking up in few minutes anyway. We are watching his vitals now, and the increase in breathing and heart rate both tell us he's doing much better."_ Another voice, female this time. It sounded closer, but still had the faded out with that radio buzz.

_"Thank you Dr. Price."_ He knew that first voice; didn't he?

_"Of course General, I'll have one of my nurses come and check on you both in an hour or so. Am I correct to assume you wanting your things moved to this room?"_

_"Yes, thank you."_

A door opened, and footsteps went away from him before the latched clicked. A heavy sigh, and then the squeak of wheels before they too stopped. A hand to his forearm, but not the touch of skin on skin nearly startled him. Would have jerked his body if he had that control. _"Hello Edward."_

He wanted to answer that voice, because that voice had always demanded an answer before. The tone was different, but never the voice. This tone, it pleaded for an answer.

_"The doctors found that your eardrums sustained some damage from the shells and fire bursts, but it should pass in a few days."_ A light chuckle came from the voice. _"And you lost my gloves shrimp. You're going to buy me new ones. That is the forth pair you've destroyed."_

Edward wanted to laugh. The hand to his arm rubbed gently back and forth. It burned, uncomfortable against his bruised and battered skin, but then the comfort it offered made it bearable.

_"The Rockbells fixed up your ports, but have told me that you aren't ready for automail for another week." _The voice continued. _"We found you two days ago. So, you haven't called me a bastard for what, seven days or so?"_

Seven days. A week. The time set in his mind even though the dragging moments felt longer. The hand brushed briefly across bare skin before moving back.

_"I wish…I want you to wake up. Even if it were to yell at me, I want you to wake up. I want to see you eyes again. Please, Ed? Just wake up."_ The voice was breaking. The hand tightened on his arm, and the surface in which Edward lay on bent under some new weight. Heavy breathing overtook the voice Ed wanted to listen to and became suppressed sobs.

Unable to do nothing but listen to the sobs and crying for the next few minutes as more and more energy flowed into him. Like a radiant sun, heat spread from his heart as he tried to get his body under control. Before he could drag his eyes open, the sobs hitched and became silent.

_"I'm sorry. I'm so so sorry. I should be the one on the bed, not you. If I had just left you in Central…God Ed! Between you and Hughes, I don't want to lose another friend. I can't lose someone else."_

_**A/N**_

The italic quotes are to show that Edward's hearing is off. And I'm sorry these chapters are so short! I'm usually one for longer chapters but these seem to be better for this type of telling right now. Later though, they should be much longer. To my reviews, thank you! And yes, very sad Edo! Poor Roy, he's having such a hard time.


	5. Dreams

ROY

"I'm sorry. I'm so so sorry. I should be the one on the bed, not you." He shouldn't even be in the same town, let alone the same building. "If I had just let you stay in Central…" None of this would have happened. He'd still be ok. "God Ed! Between you and Hughes," _Both of them are going to give me a heart attack._ "I don't want to lose another friend. I can't lose someone else." _Don't make me lose someone else Edward. Wake up _please_. _

With his head ground into the mattress, Roy had little chance of seeing Edward move, but he did feel when the arm in his grasp turned just a little so that the hand was no longer palm down. Jolting upright, wide black eyes took in the sight of the wounded young man.

Gold eyes were still closed, but instead of the leisurely closed lids the orbs hid behind tight flaps of skin. His lips were twisted into a tight pucker as his brow furrowed in pain. His only arm twisted a bit, three of his fingers bound tightly into little splints. One IV drip into his left hand, and then two shunts into his left thigh above the automail port. Casts, strips of bandages, and wires wound themselves around the small body, overcastting it with a sickly palpable aura.

While he watched, Edward's eyes fluttered slightly before coming up open halfway. Glazed yellow eyes, so different then the fiery gold Roy knew spun slowly to take in the room. He made a confused noise after he noticed the tube that laced into his nose, and his right shoulder jolted like he tried to move his missing arm. Frightened, he tried to jerk his other arm away to tear it off. "Leave it Edward." Roy exerted enough force to push his arm back to the bed before he hurt himself but was careful not to do the same.

The eyes darted to him and then softened, but kept to the dull yellow. Roy wished it would brighten, because the color made him ill. Edward tried to form a word with his lips, but the throat did not cooperate with his will. After the third repetition, Roy caught on to the words he was trying to speak. _**"Are you ok Roy?"**_

Smiling, confused at why this angel could ask that question even as he lay in pain, Roy assured him of his own health. "Yes, thanks to you." Turning Edward's hand back over, feeling the smaller hand with its calloused palm and the two fingers free of imprisonment, he made sure that the needle IV wasn't jabbing him before looking back up. Happy bewilderment stared back at him and his lips cracked and bleed as Ed offered a tentative smile. "The only damage I had was the GSW and a crack in the head. You, on the other hand…" Roy sighed, running his free hand over his face to try to banish the medical chart from his thoughts. Tugging his other hand free from underneath Edward's, he reached for the cup and pitcher beside the bed. Using his right hand to perform the duty, he managed to fill the cup without any major spillage. "Here, you've got to be thirsty."

Standing carefully, he edged himself closer to the pillow after adjusting Edward into a sitting position. Holding the cup to his lips, Roy helped Edward take a few sips before he closed his eyes to slump back into the downy pillows. "Is that all?" Roy had hoped that Ed would at least drink half.

One eye opened to look at him, swiveling to look at the object in his hand. He blinked slowly, and the mind that should have been able to calculate any equation in seconds had trouble trying to understand what Roy was asking. Shaking his head slowly, his left arm jerked before he remembered that it wouldn't move. Grimacing, he moved his eyes back to Roy's concerned face to mouth _**"hurt" **_before he closed his eyes again.

Unsure if he meant his arm or the act of swallowing, Roy nodded as he placed the cup beside the pitcher once again. "If you want anymore, ask." Shuffling back to his wheelchair, Roy collapsed back into it. Even though he was no longer sore, he found himself tired and weak by simple acts like walking or standing for long periods of time.

Dropping his right hand onto the mattress near Ed's, Roy let out another sigh. It had already been a long day. After nearly three consecutive surgeries, one automail and two medical to repair the damage to his flesh and bone, Edward had finally been released into recovery.

His new doctor, an Angela Price, watched over him every second of the way. She had allowed Mustang's officers clearance to check up on him between surgeries, but she wouldn't let Mustang himself in. She was worried about the care of both patients, and with the weakened immune systems, they could pass something off to the other. This had been the first time Roy had seen him face to face.

His long blonde hair lay around his head in a tattered halo, sticking oddly to the pale grey pillow sheet beneath. Stitches marched up the side of his face and across his forehead to recede into his hairline. Blood pooled under his eyes, giving him a raccoon's mask. A small trickle of blood clung to the bottom of his chapped lips, leaving them crimson and angry. Bruises littered his neck, creeping up from his paper robe collar.

Stiff cotton scratched against his own hand, along with the cold bend of metal wrapped around it. Two cold sticks of flesh clutched weakly to his, trembling with effort.

Roy watched his hand as Edward's tugged at the fingers until he was able to grasp one into his own. Eyes traveled up the expansive of gold flesh overlaid with the white bandages before meeting with the pale blue robe and up onto his face. A faint blush, the only blood he could call to action to give him on, painted Ed's face. Pain made his eyebrows squish together, but the worry in his eyes was more troublesome. Like Roy would pull away.

Bringing his right hand up, Roy encased the bits of flesh that he could touch with both of his hands. Relaxing, Edward thanked him quietly with his dull yellow eyes before allowing himself to melt into sleep. Sighing, releasing a breath he didn't know he was holding, Roy tried his best to relax into his chair.

He hoped Ed would stay in dream world for a little longer, because reality would be getting all the worse when he woke up.


	6. Reality

Edward hated hospitals. There were so many things about them he could list; the smell, the sounds, the sheer mood it set. But the big thing was, they were either deafening in silence or sound. Tonight, as he woke from some drug induced dream, it was the silence that greeted him. The silence and the darkness.

He didn't know what time it was, and frankly didn't care. He didn't think he'd be awake long enough to find out anyway.

Mustang was gone, but that wasn't really a surprise. Given how late it was now, he might have left hours ago. The window had gone from the bright pink of sunset to the dead blue of midnight in the space of his unconsciousness.

He really had to go to the bathroom. And he really didn't want anyone to help him get there. Knowing his automail was gone; he still figured he could get there on his own. It would just take longer and be a little more awkward.

Slipping the thin sheet off him, he would be asking for an actual blanket because that thing was just fucking useless, he swung his thighs to the side as he fumbled with the metal bed cage. After getting it down he shifted closer to put his foot to the floor. _'The bed must be taller than I thought.'_ Moving closer to the edge, he tried to feel around with his toes. Nothing.

Growling and cursing the hospital for having such skyscrapers for beds, he looked down. The floor wasn't that far away, he should be able to reach it. So why wasn't he?

Turning pissed yellow eyes to his right leg, he choked. Where the fuck did his flesh leg go? It wasn't detachable! It should still be there! He reached out his left hand, pulling muscles and tubes along with it, and grabbed at the space where his thigh should attach to his knee. Frantic, he did it again and again, all the while pulling up air. No, he hadn't lost his other leg. It was a dream, a nightmare. This was a nightmare.

Then why did he feel pain?

_I lost my leg? When did this fucking happen?! They took my leg!_ Panicked, Edward overbalanced himself as he tried to prove his eyes wrong with his fingers, ignoring everything else until he hit the floor with a clunk. Yelping hoarsely, he floundered with his only remaining limb until his fingers gave way. Tears of pain and frustration trickled down his stinging cheeks, creating little silver puddles onto the cold tile.

_I can't fix Al if I don't have legs! Automail surgery takes months to recovery from. What happens to him while I'm useless and weak? Stupid! How the hell did I lose another limb? Freak. Cyborg. Not even human anymore, more metal than flesh. What happened to me? _

_**"No. No no no no no no no. This isn't real! I didn't take anything! I didn't do anything! Give it back! It's mine!" **_His voice; so unused and abused in its box, flexed and broke with every syllable. He flopped around like a fish out of water as he denied the nonexistence of his flesh. _**"It's mine! Son of a bitch! Give it back!" **_He screamed at the Gate, because the blame lay squarely on its shoulders.

_I didn't do anything this time! You have no right to take that from me! Give it back! I can't save Al if I'm this damned weak! The military won't keep a lame dog! _

_"Edward!" _The Gate! It was actually talking back. Odd, it had never used his name before.

Rearing up on his torso, sliding backward with the force, he tried to meet the bastard head on. _**"Give it back! Give Al back you twisted fucker!" **_

___"Edward!"_

_**"Give it back!"**_ He screamed with equal force even though he couldn't hear himself speaking anymore. _Funny, the Gate sounds like Mustang…_

_"Snap out of it Fullmetal!"_ A new pain burned on his cheek, sending his head reeling.

Collapsing onto his chest again, he blinked. Gone was the black abyss, leaving white tile. Gone were the grabbing hands and silent voices. Leaving two arms wrapped around his waist. Gone was the blinding darkness, and he could see a light. Gone was the cold, and left with burning life. He didn't want it! _Let me go!_ He wanted to scream so badly, needed to.

_"Edward."_ The voice came again. He wanted it to go away. He wanted everything to go away. 

_"We need to sedate him." _Another voice, sweet and smooth and high. Female. _"You need to move General."_

_"I'm not letting him go."_ Oh, that was good. That way he wouldn't slip back into the Gate. Mustang had never let anything happen before.

_"Fine, but I need to give him this shot. He'll hurt himself at this rate."_ Shot. Did that mean something?

The arms tightened around him, maneuvering him into a solid wall of warmth before taking his only remaining limb and holding it still. _"I've got you Edward." _The voice was so close, he wanted to reach out and touch it. That voice became is lifeline, retching him away from his hallucinations and back into painful reality. Struggling again, as every stub he had hurt like a bitch, he bucked and writhed as the hands tried to hold him still. He didn't want to break away though; he didn't want to be alone again. He just didn't want it to hurt anymore. _Was that wrong?_

_"Shh. I've got you Edward."_ He liked that Mustang was there. He liked that he hadn't gone away. And when he used that tone, he never lied. His lying voice was smoother. This one sounded so broken. Was it just his ears or did Mustang break too?

It became very important to him that he find out. The single thought in his head, shoving everything else out. Mustang voice didn't break, but it sounded like it. Mustang never shook, but his perch trembled and rocked like a tree in the wind. Mustang never ever once lost control. Even when he was super pissed, his voice stayed in dulcet tones and his hands never clenched into fists that tore apart buildings. Not like him. Mustang ruled anger and fear and used it.

This couldn't be Mustang.

_That's absurd. If he isn't Mustang, who is he?_ Not the Colonel, or General whatever. Not bastard. _None of these names fit. What do I call him now?_

Some new pain filtered in, burning his blood and soul and fogging everything up. Not-Mustang was slipping away, his not-smooth not-lying voice sounded further away. _No, he said he had me! I don't want to go back! _

Weaker, smaller, and afraid, Edward managed to slam his head into some pointed ledge above him once too often and a grunt of pain signaled his release. He fell to the floor, not where he wanted to be. _Put me back! I don't want to go back!_ His mind tore down the middle, wanting the opposites to merge into one. Not-Mustang had pain, but he had him. The black Gate had no pain, no Not-Mustang, and nothing but nothing. He wanted everything and nothing.

He wanted it to stop.

He wanted it to continue.

His body decided for him as Not-Mustang swirled away with reality and the self-same blackness he craved in a fearful life dependency came back.

_Will I wake up again?_


	7. Words

**ROY**

"He looks so…" Roy grasped for a word as his Major helped him back to bed. "I hate to say small, because that's how he usually is. It's more like…"

"He's half gone. More than half gone." Hawkeye replied, assisting in getting the man into bed. Of course her hands were batted at in a absent manner, but she ignored it in favor of pushing the superior into his bed. "You shouldn't have exerted yourself sir."

"And if I hadn't he would still be on the floor." Edward hadn't wanted anyone but Roy touching him, which was greatly surprising in a normal sort of sense. Edward hated to be touched, and had been known to growl at people who broached his five foot perimeter. Even unconsciousness, he had snarled when one of the male nurses tried to pick him up. After the third failure, Roy had grabbed the boy around the waist and hauled him up, straining his back in the process. Solid little brat, even with three missing limbs.

Sighing, he allowed Riza to hover over him for a few minutes before she went back to the chair outside to wait. In an hour or so, at 0400, Havoc would come to relieve her. Mustang would have to missing an eye or two to be blind to the flittering and blatant courting the First Lt was doing to his Major. Food, coffee, arriving early to talk. Sometimes he would stop off during the day when she was reporting back to him and bring in books that she hadn't read yet. Hawkeye dealt with it with an amused lift of her eyebrow, most often looking to Roy as if saying 'are you seeing this?' Of course, she could handle herself and would be offended more than anything if Roy stepped in. If she didn't want the attention, she'd say something. And to think of it, Roy could see that she was taking the attention to heart. After the attack on Eastern Command, his faithful blonde had been a little shaken. Apparently she did not like being taken by surprise and had felt of kilter for a few days while her superior lay near dead in the intensive ward. Havoc, or as she had started to slip and call him Jean, had been the only thing that had kept her moving. Which Roy was extremely pissed about. He had told her time and time again to keep moving no matter who was dead or dying or wounded. The most important person in a situation like that should be yourself, then the rest. He was the exception; it was his duty and responsibility to take care of his subordinates. He could not be overly worried about Hawkeye freezing up because him or one of the others had turned up, or in Lust's case, been called dead. A horrible habit she had picked up after the war.

Edward had the same blasted problem, only slightly different. His brother, who could be safely labeled the only person he truly loved, in anyway threatened would send him into a fit of thoughtless rage. Buildings would crumple, people would end up in hospitals, and things would generally end up in need of repair as he went on his *ahem* little rampages. And his reports would be spotty and ragged and near incomplete with lack of detail. Wither it was because Ed was hiding the actual facts, which Roy believed in certain circumstances such as Liore and Xenotime, or he had truly forgotten what had transpired. His ability to focus beyond the human world could be a help or a curse as things just dropped away for him. Roy would love that ability if Edward only learn to moderate it. Again and again Al would drag him from the library to feed him or make him take a bath. And time after time Edward would stand in front of him with a half-assed report because as he went to save his brother he would block out all the other stuff he'd been sent to do.

That ability might end up to be the end of him. His focus was good for study and at times alchemy, but it hurt more in life then it made up for. And if his intense focus turned in on himself, he'd destroy himself in an attempt to gain distance from the problem.

…

Hmm. Hadn't he just been asleep? It was a nice dream too, full of mini-skirts and furhurness. And the no gun in the office rule had certainly paid off. He could slack to his heart's content without fear of reprove or gunshots!

But he wasn't asleep any longer. And that puzzled him. True, he was a light sleeper, but the noise that had woken him had stopped now. Grunting softly, Roy attempted to turn over on his side, wanting to be able to sleep in any other position.

_**"No. o no no no . This n't re l! I n't ta e an g! I didn't do anyt ng! Gi e it b ck! It's ne !" **_The half slurred letters rushed into the air, causing a start and yelp from the man. The voice wasn't one he knew. It snapped into the air as firecrackers in its deafening booms and fizzles. Unable to make out the words at times, Roy strained himself upward, trying to locate the disturbance. Nothing, there was no one here. It couldn't be from another room, it was much too loud to be filtered through one of the walls.

A hefty thump, attuned to the one that had awoken him he found himself recalling, came from the floor. The sounds came one after the other, and near silent cries of pain flavored the dull drumbeats.

_What in the world…_ swinging himself around to place his bare feet on the cold floor, Roy gaped at the writhing figure of a frenzied torso with a weird little limb sticking from one side. Cobwebs were rapidly torn from his mind as he placed the oddity as Edward Elric. _**"I 's mi e! S n of a b ch! G ve it b k!" **_The torn voice pulled him out of bed and towards the fallen male.

"Edward!" He shouted, rushing past him to throw the door open. Snapping at the Major, who had been unaware of the chaos inside his room, he sent her after help. Spinning back around faster then any left face he had preformed for his old Sergeants, he ran back into the room to catch the last of Edward's reply. _**"Give it back! Give Al…"**_ The rest was lost as his voice gave out again, but his morbid dance upon the floor spurned the General into action.

Falling to his knees, ignoring the fear and revulsion of the half thing, he managed to flop the younger onto his back. Weak yellow eyes would not focus themselves onto the real world, whirling iris and dilated pupils. His lips pulled back to show off gleaming teeth as yet again he snapped and snarled words at his imagined foe. "Edward!" The name rolled off the small alchemist like water as he continued with his convulsive talking.

Gritting his own teeth, he pulled his free hand back and smashed the palm against his pale gold cheek with a crack. Sent the body spinning back over to land hard onto his front. "Snap out of it Fullmetal." Which was wrong on his tongue, because this twisted little wretch was not near the overwhelming force of a Fullmetal alchemist.

Words flowed on and on and people moved around them, tried to take him but…"I'm not letting him go." Because if he did then Edward would disappear and Fullmetal would fall into whatever place he was screaming at.

He caught the flailing body up to his and just held on. Held on because that's all he could do at the moment. Sobs and half formed words were coming out of the small body, and the thrashing was raising and falling like waves. "I've got you Edward." Did he really? It felt like a lie, to both Ed and himself, but it had to be done. Had to be said. Had to say it again and again as the nurse stuck a needle into his arm. As Edward fought against the medicinal burn. Crushed the top of his head into his chin, causing a thin line of blood to dribble down from his lips as he bit down on the swollen appendage.

Been forced to relinquish his grip on the half thing, watching as its final throes sent it still half under the cot. Roy had been forced to watch the near collapse of all that was Edward Elric

…Thought of stopping here…

"Sir?" The doctor was back, holding a clipboard in her hands as she and her assistant went over the still form of a torso and arm. Tubes had to be re-inserted into his wrist and arm, and new IV shunts were placed before being attached.

_Focus Roy, now isn't the time to fall to pieces._ "Yes Dr. Price?" Sitting up turned into a chore that sent spikes of pain through his shoulder and back. _Solid little brat, even without automail. Heh, isn't that an understatement._

"Edward did some damage to his new automail port, but with him asleep like this there isn't much I can do to fix it. It was amazing enough that we installed it while he slept, but with the blood loss and damage we didn't want him to go through any more trauma. Now, you on the other hand, should not have pulled your shoulder out picking the blasted boy back up."

Chuckling weakly, Roy managed a shrug. "That's what everyone keeps telling me, but I wasn't about to leave him on the floor and no one else seemed to be able to pick him up."

A tired smile came to the surface of the doctor's face and Roy forced himself to look at her. Long brown hair, the color of fresh churned earth, shimmered down her back. Eyes the color of spring green and full berry red lips. Clear pale skin, long fingers, trim waist. A noticeable bust, but nothing too top heavy. Taller than Edward by a few inches, she would have only came up to his nose. All in all, attractive. Her only physical defects were the slightly hooked nose, perhaps broken when she was younger, and the dark circles only partially hidden by makeup.

But, as his gut instinct demanded, something seemed off. Perhaps it was the way her smiles didn't extend to her eyes, or the way her fingers never stood still. Or the soft clip at the edge of her words. Like she had somewhere else to be and this barely warranted her time. It might have just been the Hughes in him, but Mustang would be ordering a background check on the good doctor, one way or another.

"Well, lets get you both settled for the night. Mr. Elric should sleep until tomorrow afternoon at the latest. I would hate to have to come back here again tonight. Do you have an idea what started the panic attack General?" She jotted a few things down in short hand by her quick little flourishes as she spoke, not looking up at him to speak.

"He woke up and noticed his leg I think. When he hit the floor he woke me up, but other than that, no. I was hoping you could fill me in a little more actually."

"Although he's already lost two limbs, and the reason's weren't stated clearly in either his medical or military file, the loss of another limb after being buried alive for almost a week would send anyone into hysterics. And he didn't even know about it for the longest time. How would you feel if you woke up and body parts were missing?" Roy wrote this off as a rhetorical question and waved her to continue. "I had hoped that we could have broken it to him gently, but as he already knows the hard part is over."

Roy held back his laughter only by biting his tongue. Up until now the doctor hadn't proven herself an idiot, but this just showed that civilians didn't know what the hell they were talking about. And the reaction that Edward had sealed the deal. Knowing wasn't the hard part for Edward, it would be climbing out of whatever hell Edward had put himself in. The humor burned down into an ugly emotion he couldn't name. The Rockbells might understand, but fools like this would make it that much worse if Ed had to deal with them.

"I doubt that Doctor, I sincerely do." He whispered, rolling onto his side away from the woman and the half-man. Immature, he knew, but at the moment he couldn't stomach to think of either of them.

…

The next day

"I don't give a fuck if the damned thing was rotting off! It was mine you bastard! You had no right to ok a damn amputation! Where the fuck was Al?! Does he even know that you mutilated me? You fucked up son of a bitch! You had no right!" Edward screamed in a righteous tantrum. "This isn't something you can make up for Mustang! This isn't another one of your stupid toadies! This is my fucking leg! My fucking leg!" His lungs gave out a moment later, leaving him panting harshly as he clutched weakly at his bound ribs.

Keeping his indifferent mask in place grated harshly on his frayed nerves. He could make no retort to most of those comments. "Alphonse was staying with the Rockbells at Gracie's. I did not think that you wanted him working 24/7 on the rubble." He replied, keeping his eyes forward. He didn't look over at the other occupant of this white prison cell. He didn't need to to know that gold eyes were still so yellow and unburning even as he threw the words into the air that had been in his mind up until this point. Words that he had felt overwhelming him as they birthed into the air.

"You were making my brother do fucking grunt work? I was only dead for a week and you had him lifting rock!"

"As you can see I am incapacitated at the moment Fullmetal! I have been in this stupid hospital for that long watching as my subordinates looked for you! And I tried to order your brother _not_ to go! But like his bull-headed runt for an older sibling he went and did what he wanted!" Roy snapped back, loosing what little control he had on his emotions. "I damn well tried Fullmetal! What fucking part of that don't you get!"

"You didn't fucking try hard enough!"

"What should I have done then? Tell me!" Yes, that was a good plan. Have him carry the guilt and the pain and the responsibility for just a few hours. Anything to have this go away. He hated this feeling of weakness, but at the moment he couldn't handle it. He wanted his friend, his own brother. _Where have you gone Maes? You promised you'd be here for me._

"Well maybe if I hadn't risked my life for _you_ and the rest of the fucking military I'd still be in working order!"

"Well if you had been stronger maybe this wouldn't have happened!" No, that was wrong. Edward was already a god. What was above that? But his mouth couldn't stop moving.

"You're blaming me?! I fucking saved your life!"

"Oh, thank you! You saved me because I took a bullet for you you impetuous little orphan!"

"Enough! The pair of you!" Riza Hawkeye stood in the door way, a savior to this fucked up situation. "Roy Eden Mustang you will apologize this second and Edward James Elric you will lay back in that bed and calm down." She stalked into the room, a tigress in her prowl.

"Why? He's only speaking the truth." Edward snarled weakly as he fell back into the pillows. His cheeks were painted a pale pink from embarrassment and anger, but his eyes were breaking all over again.

"You say that again Edward and I'll take your arm this time! You are not an orphan and have no been since we took you in! You should now by know that by now!" Riza snarled back. "And if you give me any more lip I'll take those too!" The only thing stopping Riza from pulling her gun was the simple fact she never pointed a gun at someone she deemed unable to fight. Another weakness of hers. She should not allow her personal feelings to intrude in her fighting. Not like Roy had done with Edward himself.

The pure normalcy of the tirade, no matter the reason or the words, caused a glimmer of white to appear in Roy's black soul before it dimmed again. _I let my anger and fear get the better of me. I am 28 years old, I should fucking know better! And to attack Edward after all he has gone through is lower than even Kimbly ever went. He offered his life in exchange for mine and my staff and all I can think of is myself. _

"Edward, what I said was not only painful but wrong. Hawkeye is right; you have always been part of us. Hughes saw you as a son, and I would have liked to have at least claimed the role of friendship. However, my words have ruined all hope of that. I'm sorry for what I said and have never thought them before in my life. For the very fact that it isn't true and will never be if I have a choice. I'm sorry I took away your choice Edward, with both your body and what could possibly be your future." 

Edward remained silent for moments after that, long enough that Riza gave a sigh of relief and made sure he was comfortable before exiting the way she came. Shooting Roy a warning glare before closing the door with a click.

"She hasn't lost her touch has she?" The words broke the tense silence.

"No, and now that she's a Major she's going to have a license for a bigger gun."

"That's just plain fucked up."

"Tell me about it."

Nothing was resolved.

No one was forgiven.

But at least they could look each other in the eye and laugh.

**A/N**

Ah, my lovely readers, how nice it is to see you. *Waves from other side of computer screen* Did you miss me? You can make it up to me by leaving reviews. Those are always good with cookies. Any and all questions, criticisms, and niceties are loved. No flamies though, or I'll sick my favorite alchemist on you!

I have noticed that I haven't been leaving a disclaimer. Eh, if I owned Fullmetal Alchemist I'd be living the high life, not writing fan fiction. Would you miss me? All I own is a Roy Mustang key chain. (Hints to my fav alchemist right?)


	8. Food

_A/N I'm switching POV from 3__rd__ person to first. So instead of 'he is blah blah blah' it'll be 'I am blah blah blah'. Sorry for any confusion, I got tired of writing in 3__rd__ person and wanted something new. Again, the POV is at the top of the chapter._

**EDWARD**

"Alright Mr. Elric, it's time for lunch!" I swear, she got chirpier with every meal she shoved down my throat. Freakishly tall idiot. Did she think I was happy to be spoon feed each and every meal an assortment of what looked and tasted like medical waste? Did she think I loved having her in my face each torture session? Did she not realize that the sound of her voice made me want to climb the walls with my one arm?!

How could she not think of these things!

"Open wide little fella." She sang in baby talk. Oh. Hell. No.

"First off—_omph!_" In went the spoon, scraping painfully against my upper palette as it deposited its load. Swallowing forcefully before it got stuck up there and I choked, I managed to clear my air way just as the General waltzed in.

He had been free of this institute since last night, ushered out of my now private room by one Major with a gun. He had not wanted to go back to work, which was a turnaround from his last bouts of behavior or so I heard. His right shoulder was bound up against his chest, and after my little stunt two days ago he had not been allowed to use it since. I felt kinda bad about that. Only a little though, because he took my leg.

That wasn't fair, and I knew it, but I wanted to blame someone for my stupidity and Mustang had always been a clear target for my ever ready anger. The day after, when he had called me an orphan, I wasn't thinking clearly. All I could see was myself, looking down at me in my fucked up dreams, saying over and over again, 'cripple, who's going to help Al now?' My other me was always whole and damn it all taller than me.

"Help me!" I yelped jerking my head away from the crazy lady who was still trying to shove that damned spoon down my throat. "Roy!"

Another new development. When my papers had been delivered, a nice heavy suspension check and the words 'until fit for duty' plastered across half the page, Mustang insisted we treat each other as equals and call each other by first names. He refused to answer to anything else. The bastard.

"You have to eat Ed." He said, even as he commandeered the spoon from the red-headed nurse with a smirk. Gracefully, he dropped into the vacated chair as she left the room with a scoff. Watching the door for a second he then dumped the food into the medical waste basket, HA!, and then went about digging through his pockets. "Oh course, I would rather starve then eat that." Pulling out a brown paper sack, he upended it onto the bed to reveal small plastic containers with different vibrant colors in them. "I still can't believe all you want to eat is fruit. Why not a nice slab of steak or something? I _am_ buying and I've never heard of you skipping on free meals."

I waited for him to unhook my hand from the blasted machines so I could use it to open the containers to reveal my prize. After a week under dust and dry rock and close to another with IV drips and tasteless food, fruit was a pretty high priority on my list of wants. Lets see, what did he get. Cherries, strawberries, blackberries, pears, peaches, and oh! Pineapple! "I like fresh food, and fruit is sweet." Carefully, I pulled out a piece of pear and popped it into my mouth. Gritty, sweet, and just the right shade of ripe to melt on my tongue with just a simple press to the top of my mouth. "Maybe I'll eat something else later."

"Uh-huh, like what?" My imprisoned three fingers were not working up to snuff but I could pincher the fruit into them well enough. The only downfall was the fact that my prizes tasted like sterilized cotton on the rare occasion.

"I donno, spaghetti sounds nice." It did, but I wasn't about to put up with anyone feeding it to me like some damned toddler. Especially not Mustang.

"And you wouldn't be able to eat it without help. Try again." Mustang pulled out a folder from his other pocket and toed out of his boots. Lunch hour for him consisted of talking alchemic theory with the blonde.

"Fine." The bed bounced slightly as Mustang threw his legs up onto the corner and settled back, upending one of my fruit containers. "Hey!" The blackberries made a run for the edge of the bed as I clumsily swatted at them.

Catching them neatly, Mustang put the bowl to rights before dumping them back in. "Sorry." He muttered, before turning back to his folder. "What do you know about water alchemy?"

Sighing, I nudged the blackberries in case Mustang germs made them unable to eat. "Not much. It never was imperative to learn with human alchemy. I know the basics, like I know with fire alchemy, but that's about it."

"Well, it's pretty much the same. But instead of splitting hydrogen and oxygen, you're binding them together into H2O and controlling the air temperature to control the state the water comes out in. And if you have a naturally occurring source of water, you can move it about after some practice. You'll have to study the arrays a little, but with you it'll be natural, I'm sure."

"Is there a reason why your making me learn another branch of alchemy or is it just to keep me busy?" Testing one of the contaminated fruit, I decided it was still worth the effort and crammed a bunch into my mouth, causing a thin trickle of juice to travel down my lips and chin.

"Learning some manners perhaps will be the next lesson." Mustang sighs before yanking a handful of napkins from his greatcoat pocket. He's seen this before. "If you're going to learn fire alchemy I want you to at least be able to put your disasters out before you burn a town down. My teacher made me do the same thing."

"How about sushi?" I could eat that one handed.

"Raw fish?" Mustang squinted one eye in thought. "Hmm, maybe the shop on Cherry. I don't want to add food poisoning to the list of injuries you and I have." He scratched his cheek with his free hand as he thought.

I didn't understand why Mustang wanted to spend time with me, but I had an inkling of why it didn't bother me so much as to why I wanted him to enjoy it. I remembered only bits and pieces from my nightmare induced wake up call into reality, but the most I remembered was that Mustang, or _Roy_ as the name fit the panicked man so much better, had been there the entirety of my terror. And with my long standing stupid fucked up crush on the bastard that just sent things into over-drive.

Yeah, I knew the whole thing was hopeless and that if anyone found out I could be fired or court-marshaled for my indecent little hope at worst. At best only Mustang would find out and transfer me to another commander. And I wasn't gunning to let him find out now when we had just started to get along.

Right now, Mustang had been the nicest bastard he had ever seen, even going so far as to bring him food. He hadn't really called me names or even smirked all that often. Which I hate to admit, I missed. I like it when he smiles, but that smirk is down right sexy. With his eyes all dark black and smug, his body radiating pure power and control. Now that was just fucking up there with a nice warm smile that he seemed to grace me with whenever I turned around.

The dark blue military pants ended abruptly to white socks as his feet wiggled in freedom, jolting the bed slightly but not enough to tip my food again. His greatcoat slung over the back of the chair which tipped back onto its back two legs as Mustang balanced perfectly. His hair was tousled, spiking up in random directions as he ran his hand through it yet again. He did that when he was thinking, leaving him with the look of a young boy who enjoyed playing with light sockets. The military jacket loosened and left open to reveal the black t-shirt beneath, stretched taunt across his chest. Fuck, I can't tease him about being a paper-pusher anymore. He doesn't just sit around, he has to at least spar or something!

"Earth to Edward, you in there little guy? Or did you get lost in the vast reaches of your mind?" Mustang waved the folder in front my face, sending me snapping back to the present.

"WHO ARE YOU CALLING SO SMALL HE WOULDN'T COME UP TO A BEE'S KNEES YOU FUCKING OLD MAN!" He snarled, panting harshly. Fuck! I hope he didn't catch me staring!

"No one said that Edward." Roy said, rolling his dark eyes. "Amazing, you're selective hearing not only applies to my orders but to the words 'small, little and short'. I asked you a question, did you perchance hear me or would you like for me to repeat myself?"

Gritting my teeth against the urge to scream out in defiance of the three words, I went backward in the conversation.

"No, I didn't. Sorry."

"It's fine, just try not to get lost in there again." Even as he smirked, his dark eyes flashed once with worry. "I asked if you had a place to stay after you get out of the hospital. The dormitories were destroyed and Gracie is heading back to Central after visiting her family here. The hotels are full and regardless if they weren't I wouldn't allow you to be unwatched or uncared for any length of time."

Scowling at him, I cast about for a possibility. "I thought about heading back to Central too."

Scoffing, Mustang stretched back into his chair, away from me. I forced myself to notice the muscle play while listening to him talk. He hadn't said anything the first time, better not to press my luck. "I'm not letting you on a train by yourself."

"I have Al!"

"And if you collapse? And you will have to be driven to the doctor on a weekly basis. And while I'm sure your younger brother is very capable, has he ever dealt with you in this state? With anyone?"

"Teacher taught us basic first aide!"  
"And you will agree this is beyond the basic teachings of your Teacher?"

Glowering, I made to cross my arms before I realized I didn't _have_ arms to cross. I didn't want Roy to see me this weak. But, unfortunately, the jackass just wouldn't leave. "What do you suggest then bastard?"

"Come and live in my house for the time being. As you are not part of the military until fit for duty, you can not live in the dorms as you have been. For the very same reasons you can not go to a hotel. Elysia is a handful for Gracie without having to care for you as well."

Even as his words flowed from his mouth on a river of velvet his dark eyes couldn't hid the momentary embarrassment and flustered worry on them.

But why was he offering? What the fuck did he get out of it?

"What do you get out of this? Are you just making sure your meal ticket doesn't hurt himself or end up running off?" The words were harsher then I wished them to be, but I had no way of calling them back.

The eyes switched off as the dark light that had been shining went out. Closed off, Mustang stood with a clumsy jerk of his chair as he put his clothes to rights. Fuck, that didn't go over well. Along with names, the normal caustic banter they had been able to carry over days with smirks and sneers had disappeared into thin air. Whatever the bastard had wanted was gone now, and it was my fault.

"A suggestion is all I am offering. You can think on it. I'll see you tomorrow then." He nearly got his fingers tied up into his boot laces before he managed to get them to rights.

"Wait." The man, who had his back to him as he reached for the door, stopped. Fuck, this was bad. I had never seen Mustang run from a fight before. Just like me, he'd fight it out even if he was fighting a loosing battle.

And as he had conceded last time on our last big blow-out, AKA the 'orphan' slip, I decided to play nice. "That wasn't right. I—I'm just not used to accepting help for nothing ya know?" I knew that wouldn't be enough, and the burn of shame colored my cheeks as I glowered at the sheets. "Would Al be allowed to come too?"

Unable to look up to see if Mustang would leave or accept his peace offering, I picked up a pineapple and sucked on it. Idiot, he was just trying to be nice and you fling it back in his face. No wonder we weren't friends.

"Of course he would. I realize your brother is the most important thing to you Edward, I wouldn't invite you and not include Alphonse." His voice was soft, hesitant as he re-approached the bedside.

At least he had come back. At least he hadn't left. And he had said that I could think about it for a bit before having to answer. "I'll think about it, I ain't promising anything beyond that though."

A light chuckle, and Mustang dropped back into his chair after stealing one of _my_ strawberries. "That's all I'm asking Edo."

Snorting, I shoved the whole container of strawberries at the elder man. "Don't call me that! I've told you before bastard!"

"And I have repeatedly asked you not to call me _bastard_. But as you said last time, 'Learn to live with it Colonel Shit, because life isn't fair.' And as I reminded you then…"

"Yeah yeah, you're a General now. I don't think it'd be wise if I called you sir and all that though." I ate another piece of pineapple, happy that I had delayed his leaving for a little longer.

"And why is that? Afraid to show just the hint of respect?" He examined the strawberry in his hand, turning it this way and that before rejecting it for another duller red.

"Naw, you might have a heart attack. I know that heart of yours has been having a tough time and being old an' all you can't handle anymore big shocks." Laughing at his stricken face, I added "And your ego can not get any bigger, it'll need its own rank if you allow it to grow any."

"Now that's just mean Edo. I'm bringing you this nice food and you insult me. If this is the way you're going to be, I think I'll just let you eat what Pam gives you."

"NO!!" Glad we were back to picking on each other, even if it had cost be a box of strawberries, I pouted beautifully before smirking slightly. "If you do that then Hawkeye will make you stay in the office for lunch. And I wouldn't be able to do your work for you. And I'll be stuck in this dreary old room for the rest of the day with nothing to do." I managed to put off my smirk for a few seconds to look truly heartbroken before I erupted in a fit of giggles. Stupid morphine, making me all _girly_.

Roy rolled his eyes before standing again, collecting the empty containers before throwing them away. "Well, since I can not in good conscience leave one of my subordinates to suffer I suppose I'll have to return tonight. What would King Edward like to eat? Something a bit more descriptive then 'sushi' if you please, or I will bring you back pasta and let you figure it out."

Smirking back, I stretched one last time before allowing the General to hook the stupid tubes back up. "King Edward sounds perfect. I demand that when you bring me back calamari and shrimp that you call me by no other name."

Stroking his chin, Mustang looked me over and I was very glad that I was still too pale to show a good blush. "No, if anything I'll call you _prince shrimp_. And eating your kin isn't right Edo."

"WHO ARE YOU CALLING SO SMALL THAT A WHALE WOULD PASS HIM OVER FOR A PIECE OF KRILL YOU GRAY HAIRED OLD MAN!!!"  
"Though I didn't say that, I'll have to concede to the point that, yet again, you appear to be the object of discussion." He narrowed his eyes though, and after checking his pocket watch he wagged a finger at the bed-bound blonde. "Don't over exert yourself Ed, or you'll end up stuck in here for another week."

"Don't treat me like I'm five _Roy_." I scowled. I had been hoping that he would start to see me as something of an adult. Of course, when I was acting like I was five at every comment that made me angry, I guess he was right to treat me like a kid.

"Whatever you say Princess." The words left me shocked. He did not just refer to me by princess. No fucking way. First the stupid nurse and then him?! Just what the fuck had I done to make the universe conspire against me? Had I angered some one?

My jaw hitting the mattress, I couldn't stop Mustang from leaving the room at double pace. Finally, I managed to get air to my lungs just as the door reopened to the unfortunate red-haired nurse. "GODDAMN IT FUCK YOU SON OF AN ASS PERVERTED OLD MAN! GET BACK HERE YOU TWISTED BASTARD AND SAY THAT TO MY FACE!"

The nurse took one look at me, blanched, and took off down the hall, letting the door slam shut behind her. Good! I didn't want another fucking visitor for the next hour or two!

"The whole damn world is out to get me. I swear to the Gate, if he doesn't bring back sweet rolls I'm getting out of this bed one way or another and shoving my fist down his throat." The threat was muttered, falling from my deadening lips as I wanted to stay awake but having used my energy to yell and threaten the coward, I was quickly loosing the battle.

"Whole…world's…'gsnt…me…" I slipped off, muttering things about sweet rolls and princesses. Most of which were not very nice.


	9. Housemates

**ROY**

"And this can be your room for the time being." Sparse, but I had a feeling that Edward really didn't care. A double bed with black bed sheets, a single silvery gray comforter that had been a gift from my mother, a dark cherry dresser and then another hunk of cherry in the shape of a desk. A set of double doors for the closet to the left of the bed, and opposite them a single bathroom. Simple, and unlived in. "Al already put your clothes away, and your research in the desk. Dinner will be in about an hour or two. You mentioned something about a nap?"

Helping the small blond over to the bed, I ignored the single hiss of pain as Edward swung his new metal limb up onto the mattress as he passed the cane over to me.

"Stupid cane, haven't needed one since I was twelve." Ed grumbled, glaring at the stick of plastic as it had done him great disservice. "Next time Winry throws something at me, I hope it's a wrench."

"And in addition to the Rockbell rules, I have a few of my own. Any messes you make, you clean up. Anything you need from the market, write it on the list attached to the ice box. I go at the end of the week." Ignoring the new grumblings as Edward settled himself into the warm bed, he passed over the water bottle and two blue pills that Edward needed to take now. Another pair would be needed at dinner. "A maid comes in every Tuesday and Saturday, her name is Sandra and I'd appreciate it if you were at least civil to her. I don't have a real 'bed time', so if I bother you say something." I was trying to think of anything else that needed to be said. "Erm, the water heater's broken; you have to hit the pipes a few times before it works. It's due to be fixed sometime next week."

That was pretty much it. I wouldn't be having any women over while Edward was here, or at least not until I figured out what exactly Edward wanted. Of course, if I could figure out what _I _wanted, that might be a step in the right direction too.

"Need anything?" I realized I had been staring, lost in thought with a finger to my chin, for the last twenty seconds. Not good.

"For you to leave and get the lights on your way out." Edward grumbled, squishing his face into the pillow. Bright gold strands escaped the confines of a braid and sprang up into the air, waving slowly before relaxing back onto the cotton. "You hovering is weird, freakin' me out. Go 'way." A sleepy yawn and eye blink before my young guest conked out, snoring lightly.

"Yes well, if you do need anything, don't hesitate to give me a call." I said dryly, edging myself away from the bed.

Shutting the door, I sighed heavily before heading down the hall to my own room. Better decorated then the spare room I had thrown together not two days ago, I kicked off my boots before stripping out of my uniform to dress down in civvies. Starched blue hit the floor in exchange for a comfortable pair of black sweats and a white sleeve-less muscle shirt in exchange for my jacket and dress shirt. Gah, sweltering in the best of weather. And no real need to dress up when the only other occupant of the house was wearing a thread-bare pair of shorts and a holey shirt. Old clothes that didn't hide where the two limbs clashed with metal and flesh.

"What to make for supper…?" Edward had been using both arms lately, his fingers out of their prison and moving freely. And with his new right arm attached three days earlier then both legs, he had been eating a greater variety of food. Sweet rolls not included.

Checking in on the blonde was not something I felt inclined to do. Edward slept lightly when not drugged and hated to be bothered for something as trivial as a check in.

Tromping down the stairs as quietly as possible, socked feet slipping across lacquered wood before hitting the second landing. Grapping the wooden post, I gave a twirl on my uninjured arm before heading down the bottom steps. I hated my house, all empty and big enough to make things echo dimly. Footsteps would thud dully across the halls and no matter how many rugs or paintings or _things_ I pushed into empty spaces there was always an underling chill that seeped into the skin. And the several fireplaces on each story did nothing for it.

The kitchen, sparse and silver in perfection, opened up under skilled fingers as I set about making the promised pasta. In seconds I had a pot of water on the stove and another pan heating before I placed a mixture of ground hamburger and sausage onto the heated metal. Fat spat harshly into the air as it cooked, and I turned from it to pull a spinning spice rack from one corner. Fresh tomatoes, onions, garlic, and peppers joined a cutting board moments later, accompanied by yet another black pot.

Cooking was just another form of alchemy. A looser, more taste orientated alchemy, but one none the less. One that I had learned from my mother and all my aunts before they had trickled down to only one or two family members. The youngest of the brood of Mustangs, I had been trapped in the kitchen with the ruling females of my extended clan.

Picking a knife off the chopping block, I started on one of the tomatoes, feeling the mushy insides coat my fingers as I diminished it from a sphere to more cubes. It was odd how relaxing it could be, and one of the main reasons why I preferred to cook rather than go out and eat.

_'I wonder if Ed would like to try Xingian food? It's been awhile since I've actually cooked any of my mother's recipes for anyone. Hughes liked them well enough, but not a lot of people really prefer spicy food. And Edward does have a bit of a sweet tooth.'_ Forgoing some of the heavier spices in favor of making the home made sauce a tad bit sweeter than I normally would have, I starting in on the salad as the sauce simmered, softening the tomato chunks.

Al wouldn't be back for another hour or so, wanting to go and hit the library while his brother slept. After reassuring him twice on the way over, Riza actually having to yank him from the car to shorten the time Alphonse spent worrying over the hostile blond.

Dropping noodles into boiling water, I searched the fridge for acceptable dessert options. _'Not a one.'_ Though Sandra had been nice enough to pick up essentials in the kitchen, she hadn't grabbed anything I could use to appease the suger-addicted teenager that rested upstairs.

_'Teenager, he's still a teenager. It doesn't seem like he should be though. The force that is Edward Elric should be ten years older at least.'_ (I'm taking liberties and a poetic license here. Ed is 17 and Roy is only 26. I'm not big on pedophiles chaps, and the age difference is a little strange. So only a nine year difference, I can deal with that.) _'His birthday is…one week or two? I can barely remember the date as is. I'll have to pull his file again, or ask Alphonse. And then explain _why_ I want to know.'_ Wouldn't that be a treat, explaining to an armor bound boy that a man nearly a decade older than his brother had an immoral fixation on the self same brother?

"Always smarter then me Maes, and I'm glad you were around to keep me from jumping the little brat." I muttered, adding another carrot to the salad. "And how the fuck you knew I was secretly gay when even I thought I was a skirt chaser just makes things weirder." Maybe gay was a harsh term, I had only had one male obsession over the years and a few dozen female ones. Selectively bi?

I checked the clock, making sure I wasn't letting time slip by while talking to a dead man. _'Another twenty minutes, and then I need to wake him up. Alphonse will need to either help me talk him into a shower or help me hold him still while one of us turns the hose on him.' _Obsessive compulsive, Edward was known to slack on his own personnel appearance when it came down to it. And the sensitivity of his automail ports this soon after reconnection made him hesitant to jump into any kind of water. _'It's amazing how much I didn't know about him before this. I guess watching him outside the office has been a real eye-opener.'_ Sensitive or not, my nose isn't going to put up with him much longer.

Glad that I had mobility if not full control of my arm, I went about sitting the kitchen table. No reason to dirty up the stiff formal sitting of the dinning room when I knew that neither of us would adhere to any type of manners. Outside of my own kitchen, I could match Edward for lack of manners. Growing up in one of the highlights of East's bests, I knew when to enjoy the social freedoms of private eatings. Chuckling to myself, I wondered if Ed would even know there was more than one type of fork for eating. '_Not likely. I've seen him use his fingers more than any utensil.'_

A pouch of medications sat innocently on the hall table, and when dumped onto the kitchen counter I sighed. Pain killers, antibiotics, vitamins to make up for the lack of bone marrow, and a few supplements to help him gain weight.Ranging from small blue pills the size of seed and others the ruby red of fresh blood and the size of horse pills. A complicated schedule sat underneath the fallen pill bottles, listing quantities, times, and frequencies of which he should take and what he could and couldn't have with it.

Arranging the ones I would need to force down the boy's throat, pain killers were all well and good when Ed couldn't move but when he thought he could handle the pain he nearly shoved them back down the giver's throat. My own medication, low dose codeine, was only taken once a day.

I'd already taken mine, thank you very much.

Both pots were combined, the messier sauce crusted one and the frying pan hit the sink and I let warm water edge over them as I carried the larger one to the table. Sink turned off, dishes grimaced at. The one thing I hated about cooking; clean up.

Turning to the wall clock once again, I decided the brat had already taken a long enough nap and headed up after him. A small part of me was happy that my private domain had been torn inside out and presented for someone, anyone, else. To let them see into it, no matter how bereft of human life.

Another part was terrified. For many of the same reasons. Everything was out in the open, I couldn't hide anything.

_'But what to hide? Even in your room, the den, and the kitchen, you haven't really taken hold of this house. Things just sort of…are. What happens now? You can't push him into filling your house like your family once did.'_ The thoughts rankled at my happiness, making it seem cheap and short lived.

I'll just have to deal with it. It wouldn't be the first time I've dealt with people leaving, and it won't be the last.

…

Edward did not want to be woken up, and protested enough that I almost let him sleep. If not for the fact that I knew he hadn't eaten all day, as the train ride had made him queasy, I would have let him. However, after much fussing, teasing, and threatening, I managed him down the stairs and into the kitchen.

"There, that wasn't so bad was it Ed?" I couldn't call him Fullmetal anymore, because in all ways the Fullmetal alchemist had been relieved of duty.

"Bite me bastard, I know you enjoyed every minute of it."

"Now now, that isn't very nice. What would Alphonse say?"

"As my brother isn't here, I'm allowed to say whatever I damn well please."

Ignoring me again, Edward went about shoveling noodles onto his plate, pulling a small pile of French bread toast along side them.

Smirking down at him, I nudged a pile of napkins into view before crossing over to my side of the table. Keeping my eyes to my plate, I pointed to another small dish that held his medication. "I expect those taken, or you won't have dessert." _'Gate, what am I? His father? EWWW!'_ Dashing all thoughts of _that_ from my head, I tried to keep my features schooled and untelling of my more gutterish nature.

"Hn." Gulping down his next mouth full, he weighed the pills with his eyes. Four to take. "What's for dessert?"

"What would you like?"

"That's not an answer."

"Regardless, I don't have anything, to make or give you. I was going to go out after dinner and grab a few things, but if you'd rather leave it up to me, that's fine."

"Like hell. I'll come with you." Negotiating his next bite by cutting the noodles in half and shoveling it onto his toast, he gulped his food down. And I thought I was bad. Bits of sauce stuck to his chin and cheeks, a lone piece of tomato sticking to his nose. And if he even thought about sitting foot outside this house, he was _so_ changing his clothes.

"And why is that?"

"I don't trust you. You might forget or something."

That was lovely. But the mischievous glance of his eyes said more than his words did. "So says the one who spent most of the two day train ride doped to his gills. I never knew you were a happy drunk Ed, but I think after your little bout with your drugs it could be assumed."

Oh yes, most of the time Ed was either giggling his ass off or hugging whatever came within arm reach. Al had to sit on him a few times to ensure that the people going by their seats did not become victims of his little grasping fits. And along with the giggles and displays of affection came a near nonstop flow of words that might have had to do with either Al or Roy. Maybe.

"Shut it Mustang, I was drugged. And as I remember I wasn't as bad off as you. At least I could walk. Not like some useless Generals I know." He cleared his first plate and went for another, making sure of his ability to do so with an eye glance in my direction.

Grimacing, I decided to drop the subject while I was on a level playing field. My reaction to drugs sent me into a more… loose state. Stupid hot flashes. I don't think Riza forgave me either.

"If you behave yourself, and change, then yes, I'll let you go."

"So if I don't, I'm a prisoner? You going to chain me to the wall?"

"Don't tempt me Ed."

"It's not that hard pervert."

…

"Are you sure that you can carry those? I can take it if they are too heavy." Fretting over my smaller friend, I tried yet again to take one of the paper bags that Edward carried. I should have known better.

"No, I've got it bastard! Get the door if you want to be helpful." Ed snapped back, dancing out of reach when I failed to catch anything with my fingers.

Giving up, I did as directed, watching the blonde with a frown. Even as he tried to be tough and ignore the looks that I gave him, the slight limp that he got every third step or so gave him away. He had left his cane behind in his room, claiming that he'd be fine. I should have forced the thing down his throat, regardless of what he said.

Leading him back to the kitchen, I helped him stow the groceries with only one or two short taunts before ending with most of the groceries put away. Leaving the makings of triple chocolate cake on the counter. _'At least I talked him out of angel food cake.' _I thought, seizing up the items before glancing down at my hobbled helper. "Do you want to help or go read?"

Looking at the counter, Ed cocked his head to the side like a curious puppy. _'Well, I've always wanted a dog and Ed at the moment does look like a golden retriever, hair and all.'_ Thinking back on the arguments that had been started from less than an insinuation of Edward being any sort of dog, military or Mustang's, I decided not to voice my thoughts aloud. _'He is damn cute though.'_

"I thought you said you'd make me dessert Mus—Roy. I didn't think that meant I had to help."

"Of course not, but it would be polite if you did."

"I don't have any, why don't you go out and buy me some? All this money and it wouldn't be a chore for you."

"Would you even know how to use them?"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I'm not spending money on you yet again when I'm assured that it will once again become a waste."

"Waste? When have I ever wasted _your_ money?"

"Who do you think finances your little escapades? And with your stomach your research funds does little to cover your appetite."

We both missed the front door being opened, but Alphonse's metallic sigh rattled through our self-contained little world and set us jumping. "Brother, please be nicer to Mr. Mustang, and maybe he'd leave you alone, ne?"

"So now you're on _his_ side? Thanks a lot Al. I've got a traitor for a brother!" Edward threw up his hands and stormed out of the kitchen, followed by a very apologetic, yet chastising younger sibling.

Listening to the stomping, yelping mess that was my new housemates, I decided that even if Edward worked my fingers to a bone cooking meals day in and day out, it would be well worth it if I got to keep the pair of them around a bit more.

The resonating sound of a twinkling crash, which sounded very expensive, was soon followed by a horrified '_Brother!'_ and a louder metal thump as one gauntlet hit one blonde head.

"I'll fix it!"

**A/N**

Hello again! As you can see, another new chapter, this time in Roy's POV. I have a question, do you like it better in first or limited third pov? And again, I own nothing more than a key chain with smirking Flame Alchemists. Thank you for the reviews I have been getting and all the support!


	10. Family resemblance

EDWARD

"Aha, checkmate!" I yelled, smacking down the rook into the appropriate space to kick Roy's ass.

Looking up at the man, I frowned. The game had been halfhearted attempts at best, as Roy had found himself bogged down with paperwork to fill out and read. Mostly fill out. The attack on East Command still came through him and his office, and with him being a General now he had so much more people to watch over. He had his own brigade of Colonels now.

"Huh, you're getting better." The words were mumbled, and he didn't even look up at me.

Frowning, I got to my feet, unable to feel the cool wood floor of his den. Clunking to the hallway, I stopped to glance back over my shoulder. Roy had a pair of reading glasses on his nose, temporary he said, and one hand buried into the long black hair. He hadn't even taken his uniform off yet and it was well past seven. Supper hadn't even been considered, and with the way he had slouched into his chair I doubted it would be anytime soon.

The chess board was a mess of black pieces, only one or two white spots breaking through. And oddly, I felt worse for seeing it. It was stupid, stupid to feel bad about beating the bastard. A victory was a victory, right?

Alphonse was in the library, and I was starving. And after looking over at Roy, I figured he was too overworked to worry about cooking anything. Which sucked major ass because Roy could make the greatest things.

I really wanted stir-fry tonight, but with him looking like that…

I wondered into the kitchen, dragging my flesh fingers over the counter and cupboards, humming and muttering to myself. It wouldn't be that hard to make something, Roy always made it look so easy. Just cut some vegetables up and throw them in a pan with some of those dried leave things. Easy!

And it'll help him out won't it? If I made supper instead of waiting to be feed. Yes, equivalent exchange and all that.

Huh…now where was the cutting board?

Going through motions that seemed to be second nature to the older male, I began to fetch items I thought I'd need. Maybe I should call Al down, he's always been so much better at these sort of things.

Nah, he was studying, and I felt bad when I dragged Al into things he couldn't experience.

Two weeks. Two weeks of adjusting to new automail and a new life. Two weeks of wasted time when I could be studying. I was torn between blaming Mustang for this or for thanking him for putting himself out on a limb.

Dr. Price would be visiting next week to insure the two of them were in full working order, but with his new leg still sore and at times giving out at the worst times, I wouldn't be returning to the military at any time soon.

Price…where the hell have I heard that name before? Scratching the back of my head, I scowled unhappily at the assorted foods. _'It shouldn't be that hard. Price…come on! I've heard it before! It seems important for some reason. Price…'_

_**"Sorry boss, but we need to get moving. If we keep Price waiting, she'll have our heads and use us in the experiment instead."**_

"Fuck…" I forgot!

Throwing down the tomato that I had been cutting, I ran back to the den at top speed, hitting the closed door with a painful thud. Instead of it swinging open like the office door would have, this door had not been broken in and I rebounded rather painfully off the solid wood and hit the opposite wall. "Ow…"

Dizzy, I tried to sit up. Stupid, of course the door was closed. Running into the door was just great. Blinking rapidly to clear my vision of the swirling hallway before reaching up carefully to feel my forehead then trailing back to tenderly probe the back of my head. No blood at least, but a big knot on each side of my head hurt like hell.

I didn't really register the foot steps coming from the other room, as they were muffled from both the pain in my head and the thick wood I had just bounced off of. But the door smacking between my eyes registered.

Oh fuck did it registered.

"Fucking shit goddamnit!" I screeched, throwing myself backward away from any swinging doors and back into a wall, smacking my head yet _again!_ "What the hell you son of bitch!"

"Ed!" an exasperated shout of concern came from somewhere overhead and I wanted so much to shut him up. Yelling from anyone was now a very big no no for my head splitting headache.

"Shhh…" I hissed back, cradling my head with my flesh arm, clutching my eyes shut to block out the cursed light. "Stop talking…"

Gentle fingers pried my death grip loose and helped me stand, pulling me to my feet and back down the hall. "Here, sit down." We must have went into the kitchen because he had sat me down at one of the bar stools. "What's all this…were you trying to make something?" A clutter of utensils and a drawer being opened and the freezer slapping open and shut. Then a cool wash cloth moved across my forehead. "There, did you hit the back of your head too?" I nodded slowly and heard a breathy sigh. "Next time please do not hit the door so hard."

"Shut up." I growled weakly, wondering why on earth I had wanted to run that fast in the first place. Something important I think…

"Roy! I have to tell you—OW!!" I snapped my head up to talk, only to regret when fresh waves of pain erupted.

"Yes, tell me later. Shit Ed, you left the stove on!" Roy clattered away, making my ears thrum, and then walked back with less force. "I'm sorry, I got caught up in work. I'll order something in a few minutes. Anything special you want?"

"No. But first—"

"In a second, just sit there and try not to spaz out again alright?"

"I don't spaz out." I muttered, listening to him leave the kitchen to return to the den to order dinner. I hadn't thought about ordering anything…that would be easier and I wouldn't have to clean up.

Safer too.

"Now, I ordered some pizza, I hope you don't mind. Does your head feel any better?" Another hand moved across my check, tipping my head backward to examine my forehead. By now I was sure that it along with the flesh beneath my eyes would be a solid black blue swollen mess. I had hit my head hard consecutively. I might be a genius but a lucky bastard I was not.

"Your eyes aren't dilated, and I don't see any blood. But to be sure I think I'll call Dr. Price tomorrow and see what she has to say." Roy had a frown of concern on his face, crinkling his eyebrows and the edges of his dark navy blue eyes. Not quiet the black I had thought them to be…it must be from him being so close. I could nearly _taste_ his warm breath on my lips. He had strawberries earlier, and didn't share any. Bastard…

Wait. Price. "No! Don't call her!"

His frown deepened, nearly collapsing his forehead into sliding his eyebrows down his nose. "I don't care if you want to see the doctor or not Edward, I'm calling her."

"No, what I'm saying is I heard her name before! When I was stuck underneath the rubble of East Headquarters. There were these guys and they were stealing shit and I was really lucky they didn't see me. I heard a few names but I didn't see anybody but I think they were stealing files. What sort of files are kept all the way down there and not in the East Library Archives? I didn't remember much from then but I could recognize them by their names I think. They were talking alchemy and I think it had to do with human transmutation and—"

A finger to my lips cut me off and I realized I was rambling on one breath. Panting slightly, I watched Roy as he went to say something and stopped when a knock at the door sounded. By the rapid harsh knocking this had to be the third or forth time it had happened.

"I'll get it. You sit and think about that for just a second. Then your telling me everything you remember, got it?" Roy left without another word, arms and shoulders tense enough to make the tendons in the back of his neck stand out.

…

"And that's it? A Juko, Price, and Smith? And you're not sure what they took, just 'files'?" Mustang had written down the entire conversation as I recalled it down into a yellow notepad beside his plate, one hand occupied with a wedge of pizza. "And Price is the ringleader…"

"Yeah, sorry. It's just been hectic and with my pain killers I couldn't really put two thoughts together most of the time." I said, wiping my fingers across the napkin that Roy had thrust in my face along with my plate half a pizza ago.

"Do you think it's the same Price?"

"Really? I never got a good read off of her."

"Huh, I did. She's…off. Not like Bradley or Sloth, but off. She's pretending, hiding something."

"Most of the people are hiding something. Its just a game of finding out what and how big. You're forgetting our own secrets."

"No, this isn't like ours. This is…darker. More intentional. Something that homunculi would have a hand in if they were still alive. (Coming into AU. I'm not going to deal with the homunculi but I will mention them. Bradley's dead, so the Fuehrer is different. That's all for now! I'll try to stick to the story though.) I should have a file on her somewhere…" He started ruffling through stacks of files, pulling two out. One he threw in front of me and the other he kept. His was smaller.

Opening it, I found a list of items destroyed, lost, or both after the attack. Another list of the attacking force. Over a hundred and fifty dead or captured, another twenty unknown. A few dozen tanks and heavily armored gun trucks. "What am I supposed to be looking for?" Idiots, the lot of them. Most of the listed items had to do with weapons or human loss. Except for this bit here… "Who was the Night Alchemist?"

"Him? I haven't heard his name since I was in the Academy. And by then he was already dead." Roy said, his dark blue eyes scanning the page in his hands restlessly without sparing a moment from the written words. But whatever he searched for was not easily forthcoming and he flopped the first page down to the table to read the next. "There might be a book on him in the library. Why?"

"The mission files and most of his research files were stolen. Or destroyed." I tapped a finger to my chin, careful of the still soreness and twinges of pain that sprouted from each touch. "What happens to the destroyed files?"

"If we are sure they're destroyed, nothing. A file made up of them being destroyed most likely. More paperwork."

"And right now missing or destroyed files wouldn't be a top priority would they? Not unless it had to do with a military secret or cover up."

"The Night Alchemist was something of a military cover up. More to cover up the fact that he was certifiably insane. But beyond that, it's been too long to think of anything to do with the man. One of the teachers used him as an example of 'what not to do'." Another page flop.

"If you wanted to hide something, what would you do with it?"

"Put it someplace no one can find it." A sigh. "Does this conversation have a point or are you just trying to find out where the sugar cookies are hidden?"

"And if you could convince the searchers there _wasn't_ anything to look for? If whatever was missing wasn't missing at all? It just…didn't exist anymore?"

"Where are you going with this? Are we talking about cookies or files?"

"I didn't bring up the damned cookies! Stop mentioning them!" I snapped, tempted to throw the fucking paperwork into his smirking face. I can not believe I actually missed the damned thing. "If you thought the files were gone, didn't exist, then if someone stole them you wouldn't even know they were missing! A perfect crime!"

"I think you've been reading too many mysteries."

"No, listen. Price or whoever wanted something. They wanted information for the experiments that kept failing. By the way they were talking, it sounded like human transmutation. If this Night Alchemist is a crackpot, that could just be another cover up by the way, how the hell did he even get to be a State Alchemist? Huh? He must have had some brains."

"What if the attack was orchestrated by something bigger than some little rebellious upstart?!"

Roy's eyes grew, and I realized belatedly I had shoved myself away from the table. My chair had fallen behind me, my fingers clenching the table hard enough to crush it beneath metal metacarpals. I had started yelling like I would when I got in an alchemic debate with Al.

I hadn't realized I had tossed the file onto the table, scattering pages across the dark wood. Mixing one file with the other. Like my life had mixed up with Mustang's. With the military. I couldn't tell them apart.

Crap. I was making stupid metaphors and shit.

Snorting, I grabbed another chair and dropped into it. The one on the floor would have to be fixed before anyone could even think of sitting in it.

Using just my fingertips I began moving the thrown papers about.

Angela Price.

Grant Thornton Price, 'The Night Alchemist'.

Well, I didn't see that one coming.


	11. Love, a bitter healing thing

**ROY**

"And you are sure that Dr. Price is no longer employed at your hospital?" I snapped, wanting to shake the man through the phone until his ears bleed. Because mine had been gushing for the past several hours and I only thought it fair if someone shared my pain.

_"No General. Dr. Angela Price resigned soon after you left. I thought she had called her patients to inform them as such. We have a second doctor, Dr. William Bard, which is scheduled to come and check on you within the week."_

Insufferable little man. Worse then Ed when he has his teeth in some obscure theory. "Fine. Thank you for your time Mr. Jacobs." Before having to listen to his high pitched voice again I hung up. Cupping my jaw in one hand, I propped my heavy head onto one elbow.

"No luck?" Ed asked from the couch. Laying with his feet facing the door and his head to the desk, I could just make out the edge of a book from the top of his antenna. Normally Ed would have stayed home but I wanted him in here to keep an eye on him because of his head.

"None. Are you finding anything?"

"The guy was a fucking quack. Seriously, there wasn't much that he didn't dabble in, and some of the ideas are ok. Far reaching and certifiably insane, but I can see where he might get them. This one though, the one that got him thrown out of the military, was pure science fiction. Even if he could get it to work, the idea itself was vile." Edward slapped the book in front of him, snorting in disgust.

"What idea?"

"…I…don't really know how to say it." Ed whispered. "I look at it and it's like I've landed right in the middle of some lecture on advanced psycho babble. And I can't find the beginning, not once have I found a _reason_ why this man would suggest something so…evil. Malicious. Inhuman even."

Frowning, I got up from the desk and walked up behind him. Placing one hand on the back of his head and the other beside it, I crouched down to kneel beside the couch. At ear level, I could make out a jumble of words and arrayed drawings. None of which made any sense.

"What is it Edward?" Massaging the raised lump tenderly, I trailed fingers down the back of his head to his neck to brush against the short hairs before starting over again.

"Chimeras. I think, I'm not sure really. He keeps going on about 'Utopia' and a 'advanced race'. How he would be a 'father' or some rubbish like that." The hands shook on the journal, keeping him from speaking for several moments. "I think Tucker took a page from him." I waited, knowing from the little gulps and deep inhales that he would speak in a few minutes. "Not just human/chimera mixes, he wanted to _breed_ them. Take all the impurities out, make a golden race of super humans. And…he didn't want to share with the lowly ordinaries. He was suggesting massive genocide. His son, Michael Price, died with his wife soon after their only child was born. Angela was raised with the same beliefs as her grandfather, and only at the age of twelve were she and several other children taken from the small occult that Grant had started." Ed stopped, trembling harder this time. A low moan started up in his throat and I wondered at the wisdom of allowing him this information.

"I can't…understand. How fucking pathetic am I, that I can't understand this?"

"You're human. Humans have faults. Just because you don't want to handle what that madman did, or what legacy he left to his twisted offspring, does not make you in anyway shape or form weak." I growled at him, moving around the arm rest faster than he could move away. Scooping him up, I gathered him away from the world and held him to my chest. In all things he had been through, Ed and his younger brother had always had a sense of innocence, no matter how meager. And while the things that this rouge alchemist suggested were sickening, they were almost run of the mill for some of the things I had seen humans do.

"Any idea where she might have headed?" I continued, working my fingers into his hair to check the front of his head. He really did a number on himself.

"The place where her grandfather held meetings and lived was destroyed by the town, a small village near Dublith. Her mother was born in Rush Valley, and Michael Price held a steady job in Central before he moved back to his father."

"Possibles then." Ed's shaking was not getting better, but at least the sounds had stopped. "Ed, you do not have to help in this case. Right now, you are not even part of the military. Do you understand that?"

"Are you saying," A heady gulp of air before the blonde in my lap could respond, "that you don't want my help?"

"No, that is not what I'm saying. What I am saying is that if you want out for any reason, I'll let you." Ed made a questioning sound, grasping with his left hand as it wormed behind my neck. "Right now, you're not my subordinate. You won't be for at least another four months. I think you need to take a break," I took a breath; preparing myself for the inevitable pain that would be coming from the next words I spoke. "maybe you should go visit the Rockbells in Rizembool."

Ed stilled, and then sit up. He glared down at me for a long moment, gold eyes questioning and demanding in one hot gaze. "Do you want me to leave?"

"No but—"

"So you want me to stay."

"Well yes—"

"And I think you should know that I want to stay _here_, not go to Rizembool. You cook good food, you have a huge ass library, and the company ain't half bad. Why the hell would I want to leave?"

Ah yes, food and books, what more could…me? He wanted to stick with me? Why? "Why?"

"Aren't you listening you damn stupid Colonel! I just said!"

"Those weren't reasons! Those were excuses!"

"Fine! How's this!" Twisting around, he kicked his leg over so that he sat in my lap facing me. Face looming over, he leaned in and pressed his pink lips to mine.

I'm afraid it took me a few moments to respond, and by that time Ed had taken his lips away, the heat and taste lingering after. He had done nothing beside the simple press against mine, offered nothing further than a gentle explanation of his feelings.

"There, do you understand now, or do I need to do it again?" Even for his bold words, his cheeks gained a blush that put the color crimson to shame.

"I understand, but I'd love if you did it again." I responded, managing the tone of voice but unable to focus enough to get a smirk up.

Confusion and embarrassment crowded his face, causing the blood to spill onto his nose and down his neck into a more extensive blush. And deciding to be nice since he had made the first move and taken the first risk, I brought my hand up to his check and pulled slowly. Smiling up at my little confused blonde, and thank the Gate he could not hear my thoughts, I eased my lips back over his.

This time, I directed the kiss, making sure to entangle his lips with mine. I didn't rush, savoring the feeling of moist petals and the taste of Edward. How the man could taste of cinnamon of all things baffled me. It isn't like we had French toast for breakfast or anything that could contribute but he still tasted sweet and spicy.

He wasn't as clumsy as I had let myself imagine those few times. I had a fleeting feeling of jealousy of whoever had been the one to teach Ed to kiss, but crushed it. They lost anyway, and I was reaping the benefits so there was no loss. His hands shifted to hold onto the back of my neck, tightening and releasing as cat paws in satisfaction.

The weight of him across my lap rested easily, letting me feel the heat and life of him seep through his shirt and into mine. Little by little, I worked him forward until his chest rested squarely on mine. The coolness of his metal legs rested against my thighs, thrilling me with this new touch. Heat I was familiar with, heat I knew. But the way it contradicted my own heat made me gasp. _'Everything with this man is new.'_ I mused as I reached up entangle my fingers into his hair, pulling it free over his shoulders. _'Better than anything.'_

Deciding that I didn't want this to progress any further, as I knew Hawkeye would be in soon with my paperwork that I had skillfully hidden under a filing cabinet, I lifted his head up. Opening my eyes that I hadn't closed, I watched in fascination as Edward moved back. Flush and breathless, the blonde looked confused on why our lips were no longer together. Gold eyes peeked out from lids that seemed attached to his lower lashes. A few spare strands of hair came over onto his cheek, endearing him even more.

"Roy…why'd ya stop?" He mumbled, pouting.

"Because now is not the time to get into this. The time would be later, after we get back from dinner and a movie. When I would normally walk you to your home, but this time I'll walk you to your room. How's that sound?"

"Like a date?"

Frowning, as I had been confidante that Ed had kissed _someone_ before, I nodded. "Yes, they are normally called dates."

"Oh." Ed cocked his head to the side to regard me. "I haven't," he blushed darker with embarrassment and I wondered if the skin on a human's face could contain that much blood, "not ever been on one before."

"But you have kissed someone, yes?"

"Yeah, Ru—I mean I can't remember."

Russell Tringham? The brat that had pretended to be Ed and had accidentally saved his life? When the hell had that happened? Lifting an eyebrow to show that I knew exactly who Edward had started to name, I poked him in the thigh to make him move. "Up before Hawkeye catches us."

"Sir, I find it necessary to tell you it's too late for that. You forgot to lock your door and didn't and answer my knock. I thought you might be asleep, but finding this," Hawkeye glowered from the doorway, where a tower of paperwork awaited me, "was a surprise altogether."

Ed, who had been swinging up and off, froze. Literally, he froze. Even that little blonde sprig swinging up in the air froze up and wouldn't move. And the air he had collected in the last few seconds whooshed out in a tiny squawk.

Slightly alarmed myself, as I should have been _listening_ damn it, I stood up to give a semblance of control. "Lt. Hawkeye, if you would place those on the desk and follow me for a moment," I said please because the last thing I wanted to do was give the woman an order, "I'd like to speak to you alone."

Narrowing her eyes, Hawkeye did as I asked. Motioning for Edward to stay here and continue with his research, I walked her out of my office, past the goon squad, and toward an empty meeting room I knew wasn't bugged.

Opening the door for her, I checked the hall once more before following, trying to organize my thoughts. Same sex relationships were not forbidden per say, but one between officer and subordinate could cause major trouble for Edward and I. As of right now it wouldn't be much of a problem if I kept it under control, but if I sought to continue it when he became reinstated all hell would break loose.

Riza herself became an issue in this. I knew for a fact that she had deeper feelings for me than I held. I hoped that I could still salvage a friendship between us and avoid any misgivings she might hold toward Edward. Both he and his brother saw Riza as a maternal figure of sorts and I did not want to jeopardize his own relationship with her.

With the recent flirting of Havoc, I had thought that I could direct her into another direction, one were our interests didn't cross. But I hadn't heard anything that could support my thoughts of manipulation. Not to mention the fact that Riza would have seen through it anyhow.

The best thing would be to clear anything up now.

"Riza, I am sorry you had to find out this way. It was not my intentions to hurt you in anyway. We just got carried away in the moment." Yes, that sounded almost right. For anyone else, not for my close friend. I was going to have to try again.

"How long has it been going on?" Riza's voice was soft, controlled. Far away and closed off.

Honest, be honest. "While that was the first physical encounter, we've been dancing around the issue for awhile now."

Still too cold. Like I was breaking it off with some floozy from the corner.

"I would list reasons why you shouldn't be with him, but I think you've already thought of them yourself." Riza finally caught my eyes with hers, and they sparkled in the faint sunlight that streamed through the far window. "Just, be careful."

"Riza," I stopped whatever words I had come up with, they sounded just too wrong. "You are my oldest and most cherished friend. I love you, unfortunately not in the way you feel towards me. Please, how can I make this up to you?" Because even for the calm look in her, the extra sparkle in her eyes disgraced it.

She looked away, her uniform crisp and diligently cared for. No one saw past this mask of hers, worn so similarly to mine. Maybe that was why I could remove it so well.

"Break it off."

There were so many implications to that I flinched, resisting the urge to protect certain human aspects of myself. "What exactly do you want me to break off?" The last few words were strangled. Gate, I'd do anything for the woman but that was pushing it…

"With him. Dump him and take me on a date." She still hadn't returned her eyes to me, still looking out that far window.

What she wanted me to do…no. I didn't even have to think. "Riza, I'm sorry. I can not do that."

I would not betray Edward again. I would not add myself to a list that must have been a mile long of his disappointments and heartbreaks. Not when I was avoiding placing his name on my own. Riza was my friend, but Edward…was Ed. I didn't want to have to choose between them but if one forced me to…it would have to be Ed. Ed was already there, stuck inside my dark places to bring light.

"Well then, I suppose we should go back to the office. Edward must be worried about you." I expected bitterness, hatred, not…smugness?

"Er, Riz?"

"Yes Roy?"

"What-I thought-what the fuck just happened?"

"Maes and I had a pact, you see. He wanted you to be happy with someone. And at the time I thought I wanted it to be me, but a few months ago I have been rethinking that. You're too high maintenance." Riza Hawkeye kept walking for the door, and I think there was a small smug smirk in place on her face. "And if you had really dropped Ed to chase tail I would have shot you." With that she strode from the room, allowing the door to shut behind her.

I couldn't really confirm it as I was stuck in place with my own face looking like someone had taken a shovel and whacked me in the head with it.

_It was a fucking test! She tricked me!_

…

**A/N**

Ah, yes. I didn't think I would put up another chapter but here it is. For some reason I think it lacking but I really don't have anymore time for it. Go Riza! Mustang had too much ego; we had to take that down a tad. And anyone who read 'Fangirls' has already seen my own revenge against Roy for being so damned difficult!

Reviews are love, cookies are better!

I just realized, other than that French Toast reference, this chapter had little to do with food! A break from my normal food fetish it seems.

On another note, I will miss you all. I won't be back until Novemberish and that means no updates for 6 months!!! Lot's of love to you all, and wish me luck!


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